


mother moon

by megancrtr



Series: her memory palace [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:06:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megancrtr/pseuds/megancrtr
Summary: Please, you whisper against her neck. Your eyes are open and you see past Izzy to the demon.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this might make more sense if you've read the [other two stories in the series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/508224), but then again, maybe not.

You run through the forest, hot gasping breaths dropping out of your body. Izzy is next to you, panting to keep up. There are others too, slowly falling behind the two of you.

You call to the forest, to the realm of the Seelies to protect you both, to hide you from the demons, but the trees stay rooted and portals stay closed.

There’s a gasp and a sob, and she hits the ground.

Horror makes you gag. You stumble back to her, your hand drops onto her arm. Before your eyes, before her eyes, the demon slices a Shadowhunter in half. A scream, one that thunder downs your body, echos into the trees, into the night. You crumble down next to Izzy.

Please, you whisper against her neck. Your eyes are open and you see past her to the demon. Her artery pulses underneath your lips. There is another scream, and she flinches under your grasp.

Mother Moon, you pray, shine brighter to protect us from the demons that have entered your realm.

Mother Moon, you repeat, banish the demons from this world of yours.

Mother Moon, you whisper, eyes pressed tightly shut, save me, your child born from the roots of trees and bathed in butterfly wings.

There is no heady rush or brilliant sound of power.

Instead, something like warm water edges against your skin and massages your throat. Your eyes open and the world is bright, brighter than any sunny day.

The demon screams something silent; the rays of the moonlight devour the demon’s voice and then the demon.

You breathe hard, heavy against her skin. She shakes underneath your touch and you wrap yourself tighter around her, muttering nothings. It is one of the only ways you know how to help. Her brother, you know, would carve into her skin and force her to become calm, force her to accept and to move on, but you cannot do that.

Your power is the sweet magic of the forest, of prayer and of faith.

Shadowhunters come towards you, and the trees, whose branches you have called down to hide you from view, move tighter around you both. From between the branches, you track a droplet of moonlight as it falls to the earth.

A messenger of Mother Moon stands as the light recedes.

The messenger is beautiful, radiant and strong, as is everything the Mother Moon creates.

Knight of the Forest, the messenger mutters to you, soft over the breeze. The Shadowhunters are not allowed to remember.

You nod and clutch Izzy tighter in your arms. Her breathing has slowed, has steadied.

Even the one you hold, the messenger tells you. Even the one you hold must forget this night.

Meliorn, Izzy says sharply, too sharply against the soft, still moment in the forest. Meliorn, you can’t let it take my--

You hush her with a kiss, but she breaks away, tears prickling in her eyes.

You can’t let them take away my memories, she tells you.

You understand her fear of pits of darkness in her mind, her mind she keeps so well organized, where she collects memories like Mundanes collect toys in mint condition, like you collect potted plants, like vampires collect antiques. She will know that there is a memory missing when the messenger takes it. She will find the gap in her mind and run her thoughts around the edges and know nothing.

But if you do not let the messenger take the memory, the Mother Moon will take all of Izzy.

That is how it is done.

That is your magic, the balance of Mother Moon, of prayer and of faith.

I don’t have a choice, you tell her.

Soft light collects first you and then reaches out to Izzy, who tenses in your arms, who cries in your arms. She falls asleep as the light embraces her, like a baby laid down to rest. Her skin is translucent. Moonlight edges her body and shifts through her soul.

You carry her back to the Institute. The other Shadowhunters will wake on their own, find their own way back. But you cannot leave her. It is your duty to be there when she wakes up and finds the dark blank in her mind. You only hope that when she sees you, she knows you know what she has lost. That someone knows. That it is okay. That she is safe. That it is okay to be without a memory.

Her brother takes her from your arms and gives you a look to get lost. He never liked you.

You start to follow him anyway, but he turns around with a glare and a curse. You understand sibling bonds. They are sacred in your realm too, as sacred as the journeys’ of Sister Sun and Mother Moon and the love they settle over Earth. But you understand righting wrongs and protecting friends, lovers.

I should be with her when she wakes up, you tell him, but he shakes his head. Tells you to leave. Tells you that people like you are not welcome. You open your arms, your hands in a gesture among your people that means peace, means no harm, means truth. You wonder for a moment if it is lost of him, but then he grunts. You follow.

You are there when Izzy wakes up in bed, when she rolls over and kisses you so sweet, like it is morning and Sister Sun peeks through the windows. She kisses you so sweet, like she has just woken up after a night of making love to you.

Izzy pauses her lips and draws back. You watch as she looks off into the distance and retreats back into her mind that never forgets. She says your name softly and you press a hand up against her cheek. There’s a tear on it and you wipe it away.

I’ve lost something, she tells you.

I know, you reply.

She says your name again. Louder, sharper. Again. Louder, sharper.

She shoves away your hands and screams at you to get out, to leave. You don’t do either as she scrubs away tears.

It won't change your life if you never remember, you promise her.

Tell me, she says. Tell me, Meliorn.

You shake your head and reach out, brushing your fingertips against the back of her limp hand. I can’t, you tell her. I’m not allowed.

That’s never stopped you before.

You shake your head. I am a knight, you tell her. There are secrets that I must protect, balances that I must maintain.

She pulls back her hand and looks everywhere else but at you.

I will protect this memory for both of us, you promise. But her eyes do not turn back to you.

On your way out, you pause to mutter a pray to the peace lily she keeps by her bed. Its single flower twists towards you, and it promises that it will watch over her for you.

When you see Izzy next, you are in your room, butterflies hung from curtains. She flings herself at you with pounding fists that don’t make contact only because she doesn’t truly want them too. Otherwise, you would be at her mercy.

You try to catch her when she falls to the ground, but you just end up there next to her. You card your fingers through her hair, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

You didn’t tell me Kaleah died, she mutters to you, exhausted and defeated. I remember every death I’ve ever seen, she reminds you, confesses to you, even though it is a confession you have heard once before before.

She does not say anything more, and she does not have to. You hold her as she cries, understanding aching in your bones. She prides herself in honoring the truth, the truth of every moment she has been alive.

Izzy is the Shadowhunter whose memory never fades, but she cannot remember how her friend has died.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! [tumblr](https://megancrtr.tumblr.com)


End file.
